Withered Roses
by Silvertine
Summary: A bittersweet romance about Drogo and Primula. It's really mushy and really sad...but I think you'll like it. :-)


- Withered Roses -  
By Digigirl  
  
A/N: This fic took the entire span of the Energy FM Listener Top 40, and then some. BLARGH!  
Anyway, this is my first Lord of the Rings fan fiction, surprisingly. It's a romance.  
So here we go. The ending is sad, by the way. And I know I can't write in Tolkien's style, so  
I'm not going to even TRY to. It's written in the way I usually do fics. So there. Nyaah. ;P  
Any Q's, comments, flames - e-mail me! cocoa@beneathmywings.org ... and I'm a Frodo fan, so watch out! (mmm...Elijah Wood...RAWR!)  
Also...IMPORTANT (sorta): picture Drogo as the Elijah Wood Frodo (in the movie ~_~**), but with amber eyes and lighter skin tone. XD *gets tomatoes chucked at her*  
  
---  
  
Has someone you trusted left you betrayed  
Has someone who loved you thrown love away  
  
- Say You Need Love (The Newsboys)  
  
---  
  
The evening was cool. But in a pleasant way, Frodo thought to himself. It was the type of cool that comes after an extremely hot day; it just sort of settles in and soothes your sun-kissed cheeks gently.  
It was the perfect evening for storytelling, also. August days can do that to you, Frodo mused, lacing his fingers together and rocking back and forth on his heels. Little Elanor was was only seven months old, but already she loved seeing Frodo and listening to his voice. Thus Frodo enjoyed telling her stories and tales, though she was still a baby and couldn't understand him...  
"Master? Master Frodo?"  
It was Sam. His round, bright face was poking through a window and looking quite flustered.  
"Yes, Sam?" Frodo asked, jerked from his reverie.  
"It's Elanor. She's cryin' and I don't know what to do!"  
Frodo smiled slightly.  
"Ah, leave that to me. You know Sam, I do feel like I need to tell a good story this evening. And little Elanor loves it when I speak to her..."  
"Please, go to it then, Master! I'm afeared for my ears!"  
The two laughed lightly as Frodo entered Bag End, then followed the sound of wailing into the  
sitting room.  
Elanor lay in Rosie's lap, her golden hair glinting from the small fire in the hearth.  
"Dear me, she just won't stop, Mister Frodo!" Rosie said softly, stroking the baby's tiny cheek  
in an effort to calm her daughter down.  
Frodo bent forward and picked up Elanor, then settled down in an armchair.  
"Well, let me see. I'm going to tell you a story, Elanor m'dear." Sam sat down on the floor beside his wife's chair, and they watched Frodo intently. "How would you like to hear about your Dad's heroic bravery in defeating Shelob the spider?"  
Samwise blushed slightly, but Elanor cried harder.  
"Aye, I suppose I'll save that for another night, then." Frodo said, eyes twinkling. "Alright, if you want to cry like that, then i'll tell you a sad tale. You'll be able to cry all you want,   
if it's sad. Here, this is a story about two hobbits who were very much in love, and were married...but no one approved of it. It's a sad ending, but it's a good story. And it's...it's true. It all started on a bright, early June day..."  
  
---  
  
You were standing there  
And I was not aware  
Of the sunshine in your stare  
Melting me  
Changing me from gray to clear  
  
- Melt Me (JAKE)  
  
---  
  
Mornings in Buckland are pure insanity. Especially with the arrival of relatives; your daughter,  
son-in-law, and grandchild, no less.  
Gorbadoc 'Broadbelt' Brandybuck leaned back in his favourite chair which overlooked the Brandywine river. It was where he sat when he needed to think deeply. Mirabella was somewhere in the midst of Brandy Hall, preparing a room for Drogo, Primula, and young Frodo.  
Gorbadoc sighed slightly, thinking about the young man Primula had chosen to marry.   
Perhaps she had been attracted to his looks, because Gorbadoc could see no reason why a Brandybuck would love a Baggins. The Baggins had been reputed for highly disliking Brandybucks from the start.  
No one had approved of the relationship in the first place, especially considering that everyone had thought Drogo was all looks and no mind. And then when Primula had told Gorbadoc-through many tears-that she was with child, well, that had been the final straw.  
But Drogo hadn't just run off. He'd stood by Primula and told her they would get married, so she  
wouldn't be disgraced and disowned from the family.  
Last month had been their wedding-held in Hobbiton, no less-and today was the first day Drogo was visiting Buckland.  
'It should prove to be an interesting experience', Gorbadoc mused, stroking his chin thoughtfully.  
Just then there came a short rapping sound.  
The old hobbit clambered up from his chair and went towards the door, pulling it open.  
On the gray stone stoop stood Primula, Drogo, and Frodo.  
  
---  
  
As you turn around  
This time  
You wash the world in white  
You burn the sunlight with your eyes  
Looking into me  
And my heart anchored down  
In the sea of your smile  
  
- Melt Me (JAKE)  
  
---  
  
Primula cared about Drogo with all her heart. Everything he did ignited a deep, eternal love within her being.  
She smiled slightly, studying him as he sat in the largest of the (numerous) Brandy Hall kitchens.  
The hobbit-women who cooked in them had gotten rather angry at Drogo at first (-"You should be out talking to Master Gorbadoc and the rest!"), but he preferred being around Primula, who was also helping with the cooking. There was to be a big banquet that night in honor of Saradas Brandybuck's sixty-first birthday. Saradas was Primula's brother, which was why she'd volunteered to help with food preparation.  
Primula glanced up at the strong, yet slender Drogo as she stirred batter in a large wooden bowl. His curly, dark brown hair gleamed in the sunlight coming through the window, while his light, amber-coloured eyes peered down at Frodo (who was ten months old), full of wonder and love.  
Then there was Frodo himself, who in the likeness of his father, was also an uncommonly fair -   
very good-looking, in fact - hobbit. But his eyes. Frodo was the spitting image of Drogo, except  
that he had Primula's unique sapphire blue eyes. And his Uncle Bilbo's hands.  
Primula allowed herself to smile. The only odd thing about Frodo's appearance were his small, slight, almost elvish hands. They were Bilbo Baggin's hands, of course, which seemed to be one of the reasons Bilbo had taken a great liking to Frodo. He was his favourite nephew, in fact.  
"Primula?"   
The young hobbit-wife looked up to see Drogo smiling shyly, his head bent slightly downward with  
his eyes looking upwards at her.  
Primula's heart melted, and she went forward, almost crawling into Drogo's embrace. Frodo lay on the chair behind them - wrapped in many blankets - sleeping softly.  
"I love you, Drogo..." Primula said quietly in his ear.  
"I love you too." The most beloved hobbit in her life replied.  
"Oh, do stop that, you two." Asphodel Burrows, nee Brandybuck (Primula's sister) said angrily.   
She was rather a known busybody and gossip who revelled in destroying hobbits reputations;   
it was no wonder that she highly disapproved of Drogo and Primula's marriage.   
"Primmi, I warned you from the beginning."  
"Warned me?"  
Drogo looked amusedly from his wife to Asphodel.  
"Yes, warned you!" Asphodel said loudly. "I said, 'Primula, my dear little sister Primula,  
you are getting yourself into trouble! No good can come of marrying a Baggins! They've pitted themsel-'"  
"Asphodel, isn't that a bit strong?" Drogo asked.  
"-ves against all Brandybuck kind!" Asphodel waggled her index finger in Drogo's direction. "You  
can just shut your mouth, mister! Now, if you don't have anything better to do then lump around  
this kitchen, then go outside!"  
Primula smiled apologetically at her husband, but he chuckled.  
"It's alright. I'll go...uh, see the river."  
Picking up his son, Drogo headed out the door and into the sunshine.  
  
---  
  
and now it's over  
all in the past  
i need to forgive you  
if i'm to last  
  
- Always (The Newsboys)  
  
---  
  
"I hate it." Asphodel said angrily, glaring out the window of her son, Milo's, room.   
"Hate what?" Milo questioned. He was bright youngster in his early tweens.  
"That Baggins. And as much as I love Primmi, I DO NOT love her decision to marry Drogo."  
Milo shrugged, closing the book he'd been engrossed in.  
"I like Drogo well enough. He was very polite to me at the wedding. We discussed the best places  
to find wild mushrooms. And I daresay Frodo will be a half decent cousin if he's anything like his father-"  
"-If he's anything like his father," Asphodel interrupted, "then I don't want you going near him!"  
Milo sighed, picked up his large - rather dusty - volume, and left the room.  
Asphodel swallowed hard, then closed her eyes for a moment.  
Could her heart break anymore then this?  
Could she ever tell a soul how much she'd cared about Drogo Baggins before he'd started courting  
Primmi? Would anyone understand the jealousy she'd felt? And still felt...  
But covering it up with the old - 'I hate Bagginses because they hate US!' - story had been good.  
Very good.  
...So then why did her heart still ache so much?  
  
---  
  
touch me  
take me to that other place  
reach me  
you know i'm not a hopeless case  
  
- Beautiful Day (U2)  
  
---  
  
Her hand was soft. Soft, and warm.  
Drogo smiled to himself. Primula had the most beautiful hands in the whole world. They were small and fit easily into his larger ones. They were perfect in every way, unblemished by all the housework she did.  
The two young hobbits sat quietly, allowing the loud noise of the birthday celebration to wash over them. They were in their own world. All by themselves.  
"...And now, I would like to present a toast to Saradas, on the fact that he is now one year older!"  
There was laughter in the large hall, where over three hundred hobbits (mostly Brandybucks) were crowded and spilling out onto the grounds. It was quite possibly one of the most glorious birthday parties ever, with much food, drink, and music.  
Many tables were scattered about, covered with empty plates and drained goblets. But the fact that the banquet itself was complete meant that the dancing would commence.  
The hall toasted Saradas ("Ho! Saradas! May he live long and prosper!"), then Gorbadoc raised his hand to silence the many hobbits.  
"You have eaten well, I presume!"  
"Ho! Gorbadoc! May he live long and prosper!" Several rowdy hobbits in their tweens yelled out, clapping and laughing.  
Gorbadoc cleared his throat in annoyance. "Well, as promised, there will be dancing! So if you have brought an instrument then please, commence your playing!"  
Suddenly, a wave of sound broke over the hall as many hobbits began to play. Soon the tables were pushed aside as the half-drunken party-goers started to dance; leaping here and there, clapping their hands, twirling, swinging, laughing...  
Drogo and Primula stood near the back, watching this all in a very amused way.  
"Well, Primmi. I suppose we'll look very silly if we don't join in..."  
Primula took Drogo's arm and lead him onto the floor amidst the hundreds of other hobbits. Slowly they began to whirl around-following the pattern of others-facing one another and gripping to the other's hands tightly. Their eyes were locked, a fierce passion burning between them.  
Drogo began to feel dizzy, not sure if it was from the many drinks he'd had or from the continuous spinning.  
Primula was laughing though, out of sheer happiness...and possibly from the many drinks she'd also taken.  
"I've never felt so lighthearted in my life, Drogo!" She called out, throwing back her head. The light gleamed off her hair - light brown ringlets that danced around her face as her sapphire blue eyes taunted Drogo.  
"I don't believe that Bagginses could ever throw such a party!" He yelled back, his smile lighting up his face. And then it suddenly became rather fixed as there was a tap on his shoulder.  
"Excuse me, Drogo, but may I speak to you for a second?" Someone hissed at him. Drogo let Primula's hands go and turned to face Asphodel.  
"What is it?"  
"Outside. We must go outside."  
Drogo looked towards Primula apologetically. "I'll be back in a moment, love."  
"I don't doubt you." His wife responded, smiling.  
Drogo followed Asphodel as they made their way through the throbbing crowd then outdoors, into the cool night air.  
Brightly coloured lights dotted the grounds here and there, and many hobbits walked and danced about.  
The two headed towards the Brandywine river.  
Asphodel halted at its edge, then wrapped her arms around herself and gazed into the water. The lights were reflected in it, but the night made it's depths appear black.  
"Drogo." She said quietly.  
"Yes?" He replied hesitantly, unsure what the hobbit-woman two years his senior wanted.  
"You l-love my sister, do you not?"  
"With everything that I am." Drogo's voice was strong.  
"Why did you not leave her after you found she was with child? And why did you go through with paying the consequences?" Asphodel's low voice took on a new tone. Strained, and almost hysterical. "Why did you not turn your back on her and go for a far better hobbit...like...m-myself?! Why, Drogo?!!"  
Drogo stared at Asphodel in shock.  
"I...Asphodel, first of all...Primula's pregnancy was my fault, just as much as hers. We were stupid to not abstain. But I would never call it 'paying the consequences' that I married her. I love Primula very much, Asphodel. She is my breath of life. I have never regretted Frodo, either. The only thing I regret is that the Brandybucks do not take to any Bagginses well; our marriage would be easier without the hatred and rivalry. But...Asphodel, I do not understand your last comment. You...you wanted me to...to love you instead?"  
"You heard correctly. Why, Drogo?" Asphodel's voice was soft and low again. "Why her and not me?"  
"Because my actions made Primula my responsibility. That is why." Drogo swallowed, then patted Asphodel's shaking shoulder gently. "Besides, you have your husband Rufus. He is a very kind gentle-hobbit."  
There was a long silence.  
"Oh, lord. Drogo - I love you and I hate you. Because you are far too kind to me, even though I am a very silly girl with underhanded intentions and silly thoughts. Good night, Drogo. I suppose I wil send Primula out to see you, now." With that, Asphodel turned on her heel and left.  
Drogo tilted his chin and gazed up at the countless white stars, shimmering far above him.  
A sudden warmth was pressed against his lips, and the young hobbit's amber eyes flew open in shock.  
But he found himself smiling, then wrapping his arms around Primula-who stood before him.  
They finally broke their deep kiss, and Primula giggled.  
"What did Asphodel say to you? She seemed very thoughtful and calm when she came to me in the hall."  
"Ah, nothing much to worry about, love. She is a very unique hobb-"  
Primula silenced him with another kiss, and Drogo laughed against her lips in spite of himself.  
"Come, now. Must you always insist on spoiling my fun?" Primula said, giggling once again.  
"Of course." Drogo replied, grinning. "Did you check on Frodo, yet?"  
"Yes. He's fine; they put him in a nursery with several other babies. He is fast asleep."  
"As I would also desire to be." Drogo chuckled. "I see a boat over there. Would you care to take a little ride with me, Primmi?"  
  
---  
  
and if i don't make it know that i loved you all along  
just like sunny days that we igore because  
we're all dumb and jaded  
and i hope to god i figure out what's wrong  
  
- 4am (Our Lady Peace)  
  
---  
  
Drogo's hand trailed slowly in the black water and the two hobbits drifted lazily.  
Primula was seated beside him on the wooden boat's small 'bench', her head resting against his shoulder.  
"Drogo..."  
"Yes?" His hand paused above the water, dripping slightly.  
"What do you think Frodo's future will be like? Do you think he will be a very great hobbit?"  
"That is a possibility." Drogo was quiet for a moment. "But it is more then likely he will be very normal. Like I have always wanted to be."  
"And why is that, Drogo?" Primula asked, running the back of her hand against his cheek, then along his jawline.  
"I suppose because of your pregnancy, and then our practically forbidden love. If I was to have my way, Frodo would go through none of what we've gone through. He would be a happy hobbit and would marry, then have many wonderful children who would call me grandfather and listen to me tell tales around the fire."  
"You wish for perfection, then?"  
"Yes."  
Primula smiled gently. "But my dear Drogo, you ARE perfect. And I have a feeling Frodo's life will not be as simple as we hope. Perhaps he will go on many adventures and have a perfectly horrid time. Although I certainly do not wish that upon our son."  
"Nor do I." Drogo stroked Primula's hair, then reached into his pocket. He carefully set something in her hand.  
Primmi's fingers opened and she held the object to eye level, gazing at it with awe.  
A silver bracelet.  
"It's beautiful." She breathed, her eyes wide.  
"Like you." Drogo replied. "Some merchant dwarves came over one day when you were out, selling their wares. I figured it would make a nice gift for you when I saw it!"  
"Thank you. I love it!"  
  
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!  
Suddenly, the night sky filled with brilliant red as Drogo and Primula started in shock and surprise. Showers of sparks flooded downwards. Firecrackers. The final part of Saradas Brandybuck's birthday celebration.  
There was a sudden gasp from Primula.  
"Drogo!" She squeaked. "Drogo, I dropped the bracelet when the firecracker went off! The noise shocked me so much that it must have slipped from my fingers..."  
She stood up in panic, looking frantically around. The boat began to tilt.  
"No, Primmi! Sit down quickly or the boat will flip-"  
"-DROGO! Help me look! Please!" Primula leaned over, unheeding. More firecrackers went off, illuminating the frightened faces of the two young hobbits as the boat began to tip wildly.  
"PRIMULA!" Drogo hollered. "Sit, or we'll fall into the river!"  
But it was too late.  
With a loud splash that cut through the air, the wooden boat tipped the two hobbits out into the black river.  
And unfortunately, hobbits cannot swim.  
The firecrackers continued - orange, green, blue - as Primula and Drogo struggled wildly, fighting to stay afloat.  
Orange, green, blue.  
"HELP US! SOMEBODY! HELP!" Drogo shouted, splashing violently.  
Orange, green, blue.  
"PLEASE! ANYBODY! HEEEEEELP!" Primula screamed as fought the water.  
Orange, green, blue.  
And the cheers of the hobbits, admiring the firecrackers.  
More splashing.   
Kicking.   
Flailing of arms.   
Two hobbits fighting the river for their lives.  
"Dro-Drogo..." Primula said, gasping for air, her limbs nearly giving out. "I...I lo-ove...you..."  
"..I...love...y-you too..."  
Drogo could only watch as Primula slipped under, only a couple of feet away from him.  
His mind suddenly became clear as he gave up his struggle, and he felt strangely calm.  
Drogo's last thoughts were of his wife and son as he disappeared into the Brandywine.  
  
---  
  
take these pieces thrown away  
put them together night and day  
washed by the sun  
dried by the rain  
to be my father in my fatherless days  
  
- Always (The Newsboys)  
  
---  
  
"...and so, that is the end, Elanor."  
A silence filled the room, Frodo swallowed hard.  
"I suppose i'll put Elanor in her crib, now." Rosie said softly, getting to her feet and taking her baby from Frodo gently. "Good night, you two."  
The mother and child exited the room without a sound.  
Another silence ensued.  
Sam slowly walked towards his master, then knelt by Frodo's side.  
"I never knew, Mister Frodo. And I am truly sorry. It is a sore thing that a simple bracelet would cost your parents their lives."  
"Yes, it is a sore thing indeed. But it is a far sorer thing that a simple Ring would cost hundreds of beings THEIR lives."  
Sam nodded, patted his masters hand, then headed off to bed.  
Frodo sat still in his chair for a long time, watching the way the flames danced and played. Then his eyes slowly traveled up, past the hearth, and fixed on a painting above.  
It was old, and the room was fairly dark, but Frodo had gazed at the portrait so many times that he'd memorized every detail.  
It was of two young hobbits, and they were grinning broadly. The male had curly dark brown hair and warm amber eyes, while the female had light brown ringlets, and eyes of sapphire blue.  
Frodo got to his feet and turned, about to leave the room. But he paused at the doorway, and looked over his shoulder. He smiled sadly.  
"G'night, mother. G'night father." He whispered into the darkness, then left.  
  
- The End -  
  
- A/N: oh jeebus. that sucked so much. ~_~ but the important thing here, is that - I TRIED!!!  
Frodo: And failed...  
D: thank you. -_-  
Frodo: ...miserably.  
D: THANK YOU. .@  
Frodo: no problemo.  
D: well, till next time...*koff-koff*  
  
~ PLEASE REVIEW - GO AHEAD AND TELL ME HOW DUMB THIS WAS, OR IF YOU'RE REALLY NICE YOU CAN LIE AND TELL ME THAT IT WAS GOOD!!! IS THE CAPS LOCK ANNOYING YOU YET?! FWAAHAHAAHAAH..haahaa...ha...aw, forget it. . ~ 


End file.
